


Every Day Is Like A Battle

by RandomestFandoms



Series: (We're On The) Road To Ruin [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, jones family - Freeform, southside serpents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomestFandoms/pseuds/RandomestFandoms
Summary: Fallon Parris Jones, FP to her friends, was taken to Toledo against her will when her parents separated.  She would have stayed, for Jellybean, except her dad called her and told her that her twin had just been hauled in and questioned for murder.  Fallon may play at obedience, but her twin's wellbeing is always the most important thing in the world, so she hops on her bike, headed to Riverdale with no intention of leaving him ever again.  It isn't until she arrives that she finds out just how deep her family is in this mess, and clearly no one else can be counted on to fix everything.  Armed with nothing but her well-worn Serpent jacket, a switchblade, and an unstoppable determination to protect her brother, Riverdale is about to find out that they messed with the wrong family.





	Every Day Is Like A Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- hopefully this goes without saying, but I don't own anything except for my ideas  
> Chapter title is from Dare Me by Megan Abbott, story title is from New Romantics by Taylor Swift  
> (For anyone interested, Fallon’s face claim is Brenna D’Amico)

            Fallon Parris Jones was, as usual, sitting on her bed with her beloved guitar and trusty notebook.  She hated Toledo, and everything about it, but that didn’t mean that she was going to give up on music or writing.  She was in the middle of writing out her newest tabs when her phone went off, interrupting her focus.

_‘Me and some guys from school had a band and we tried real hard,’_ Bryan Adams sang, and Fallon, recognizing the ringtone, rushed to grab her phone off of her desk.

            “Hey dad!  Is everything okay?”

            Fallon knew that FP Jones never _called_.  It was a fact of life, her dad only ever used the phone in emergencies, and Fallon had a bad feeling.

            “Hey Fallie,” FP said softly, “it’s Jughead.”

            Fallon tensed at the mention of her twin, her best friend, her _soulmate_.

            “What’s wrong?” she asked, feeling her shoulders tense as a hundred different scenarios rushed through her head.

            “Keller hauled him into the station today, interrogated him about the Jason Blossom murder.  He’s way more shaken up then he’s letting on.”

            “I’m in Toledo, dad,” Fallon reminded him.

            “He’s staying with Freddie Andrews, there’s nothing I can do to help,” FP told him.

            “I’ll handle it dad,” Fallon promised, “somehow.”

            “I know you will, Fallie.”

            “But dad?  Drink some water, have a nap and a shower, and please, try to stay on the wagon at least until I can fix everything?”

“I will,” he said, “I will.”

“I love you, dad.”

            “I love you too,” FP said softly, before ending the call—they never said goodbye, any of them, it was too permanent.

            As soon as she heard the dial tone, Fallon snapped into action.  She plugged her phone into its charger and did the same to her laptop—an old bulky machine that she’d rescued from a dump and fixed up—before wrapping her thick black curls into a loose knot at the base of her skull and grabbing her duffle bag from under her bed.

            Packing all of her clothes was an easy job, as was packing her very limited shoe collection, her minimal toiletries and makeup, and the various odds and ends that she would hate to leave.  They were small things: picture frames, posters, knives, and her handmade recipe book, but nothing that she was willing to part with.  The only things she left out were her trusty combat boots and her oversized Serpent jacket—it had been her dad’s, once, and it was customary for the King to pass on his original jacket to his heir, making it Fallon’s most prized possession.

            Once the duffle bag was ready to go, she grabbed her worn out backpack, black leather with the Serpents’ logo stitched on.  It had been her dad’s, back when he was fresh out of the army, and she had added the emblem herself when he gave it to her.  She’d had the bag since she started junior high, and she wouldn’t even consider leaving it behind.  She reminded herself that she had to be practical, so she started with packing an umbrella and her wallet, followed by a reusable water bottle, granola bars, and a flashlight.  Only once she was sure that she had the space did she add in her pencil case and her several notebooks of songs and poetry—she would add her phone and laptop before she left, but she wanted to charge them for as long as possible.

            “Fallon?” Jellybean asked from the doorway, having clearly arrived while Fallon was distracted.

            Fallon bit back a curse.  Jellybean had every right to be there, of course, they shared the bedroom and all, but her sister preferred to hang out at the junkyard.  Fallon had hoped to be able to finish up and hide her bags before her sister came home, but, evidently not.  _Hope breeds eternal misery_ , she reminded herself.

            “Hey, JB.”  She smiled, hoping that her sister had somehow not noticed how empty her room was, or the duffle bag on her bed.

            Of course, Jellybean was at least as smart as her siblings, and equally observant.

            “Where are you going?”

            _Fuck._   “I’m…  Dad called me.  Jug is in trouble, he needs me.”

            “You’re leaving?” Jellybean asked, voice cracking.

            Fallon looked into her sister’s eyes—the same green-grey as her own.  The same green-grey as Jughead’s.  Gladys had always called them grey and FP had called them green.  Jughead, being Jughead, had told her that they were actually jade.  It didn’t matter, Fallon reminded herself.  It didn’t matter at all.  But looking into Jellybean’s eyes—Jughead’s eyes—reminded her of why she had to leave.  She hated to hurt her sister, she really did, but her twin was in trouble, and she couldn’t ignore that.

            “I have to,” she said—it sounded bad even to her, but it was the truth.  “Jug got hauled in by Sheriff Keller and interrogated for _murder_.  Dad’s completely off the wagon again and Jug is living with Mr. A and Archie.  He can’t—they can’t handle this.  They need me, JB.  You’re a hell of a lot tougher than Jug,” her sister cracked a smile at that, and Fallon felt the vice around her heart relax slightly.  “I can’t just not help him.”

            “I get it,” the blonde agreed.

            “You do?” Fallon asked, blinking rapidly.

            “Yeah, I do.  That’s why I’m coming with you.”

            “JB—”

            “I’m coming with you, Fallon,” she insisted.

            “But mom—”

            “Mom won’t care.  One less mouth to feed, and all that.  You know as well as I do that you’re the one raising me, not her.”

            “She loves you, JB, she’s just focused on her GED right now.”

            “Her GED, and her ‘totally legit’ auto shop, and the Toledo Serpents—there’ll always be something more important.”

            “JB—”

            “Fallon,” she interrupted, “I’m pissed at dad, okay, but Jughead’s my brother too.  I should be there.”

            Fallon sighed, shutting her eyes.  “Fine,” she said, after a moment.  “Pack quickly, and pack light.  Mom’s going to be home for dinner, but she’s heading out on a job after dark.  We’ll leave after she does.”

            Jellybean nodded, giving her sister a two fingered salute, and grabbed her own duffle bag from their shared closet, packing as efficiently as Fallon herself had.

***

            Once dinner was made and eaten, and the dishes were all cleaned, Fallon and Jellybean retreated to their bedroom.  It was already dark out—Gladys was never home before dusk, so dinner was a late affair in their family—and Jellybean looked out the window, waiting impatiently for their mother to leave.  With Jellybean on watch, Fallon finally slid her laptop and phone into her backpack, and their chargers into her duffle bag, before deciding to pack her guitar and keyboard into their portable cases as well.

            After almost half an hour, Jellybean finally pulled away from the window.

            “She’s gone,” she announced.

            Fallon grinned—having to wait to get to her twin was driving her absolutely crazy.

            “Finally,” she scoffed, “alright, quick bathroom trip, I’ll grab water then go too, and then we’re off.”

            Jellybean said nothing, making her way directly to the bathroom while Fallon grabbed the water bottle from her bag, and one from Jellybean’s too, and filled them up in the sink.  Once Jellybean was out of the bathroom, she went herself—she wanted to stop as little as possible once they got on the road.

            She washed her hands and headed to the bedroom, only to find that Jellybean had already taken the two duffle bags outside.  Shouldering her guitar and backpack, and lifting her keyboard, Fallon went out to the driveway to join her, setting the bags on the ground to get to work.

She started by inspecting her sleek black motorcycle, making sure that the tires weren’t flat and that there was no damage.  Everything was in tip top shape, of course, Fallon was a mechanic and prided herself in taking care of her bike.  Once she was sure that her baby was in perfect condition, she hooked on its small, custom, Ford bed.  She had been working on it for the entirety of her time in Toledo; it was a shortened, and sectioned, bed from a Ford pickup, which could be connected to the back of her bike to serve as a trunk of sorts.  She tossed in both duffle bags, her backpack, her keyboard, and her guitar before strapping them in carefully and pulling down the tarp.  Once that was secure, she connected the black sidecar for Jellybean—the younger girl may hate it, but she couldn’t ride on the back of Fallon’s bike for the entire drive to Riverdale.

            Under the cover of darkness, the sisters got settled in their respective seats, both of them strapping on their helmets, and Jellybean fastening her seatbelt, before Fallon started up the engine.  She gave the bike a moment to warm up, sliding on her leather biking gloves before she took off into the night, headed for Riverdale.  Headed for Jughead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! This chapter has been torturing me for ages and I’m really excited to finally share it with y’all! That said, if you want to hear more about her, feel free to visit me on tumblr @ Randomestfandoms-ocs and/or FallonParrisJones  
> (and pinterest, for anyone curious, is randomestfandoms/every-day-is-like-a-battle


End file.
